


Square One

by enigmaticblue



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-30
Updated: 2010-03-30
Packaged: 2017-10-08 12:47:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/75795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enigmaticblue/pseuds/enigmaticblue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A twisting of the ending to As You Were, because someone challenged me to write a drabble, and I couldn't leave it there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Square One

Buffy stared at him, not knowing what to say. Watching him sift through the wreckage that Riley had left, she thought it might be a fitting symbol of their relationship. Everything had gotten out of control so quickly; one minute things between she and Spike had been pretty good—better, in fact, than they were between her and her other friends. The next minute, Buffy found herself in over her head.

She had managed to convince herself that it didn’t matter, not really. Spike was just a vampire, not someone whose feelings she needed to concern herself about.

Yeah, Buffy could do denial better than anybody.

Seeing those eggs, though, and knowing that there was at least a chance that Riley had been right had made it clear that there was a little more to their relationship than that. Buffy had at least begun to trust Spike, and the idea that he might still be evil, might be a threat—

It hurt more than she’d ever thought it would be possible for Spike to hurt her.

There was a part of her that knew that she ought to cut this off now—that she ought to tell Spike it was done between them, and they couldn’t be together anymore. There was another part of her that couldn’t bear to lose the glimmer of something real that had formed between them.

It was messy, and painful, and impossible, but it _was_ real.

She could see the moment it hit Spike—the moment he saw the ending in her eyes. Buffy could see the pain reflected on his expressive face, even though she would have rather remained oblivious to it.

“I want the truth, Spike.” He opened his mouth to speak, but Buffy cut him off. “I mean it. Why the hell did you have those eggs here?”

His expression was a mixture of defensive anger and embarrassment, and Buffy remembered what he’d said. _“You know what I am.”_ She’d known; she couldn’t deny that, though she didn’t know why she’d felt gut-punched anyway.

“So you want my side of the story, huh?” he asked, not meeting her eyes. “Thought Captain Cardboard told you everything you needed to know.”

“Now I want your side of the story,” Buffy replied. “I know what Riley told me, but somehow I have a hard time believing that you’re some international arms dealer. You’re not smart enough for one thing.”

“Hey!” Spike protested, hurt. “I could be running a weapons ring. I nearly managed to take over Sunnydale, didn’t I?”

“You’re not helping yourself, Spike.”

“Fine.” He shrugged, looking away from her. “It’s like I tried to tell you; I had a poker debt that I needed to cover, and this was how I was going to pay it off. I didn’t know they were dangerous.”

Buffy sighed tiredly. “Did you ask?”

“No,” he admitted reluctantly. “Look, Slayer, you’ve seen the lot I play poker with. They’re not international arms dealers either. Dunno where your _friend_ was getting his information, but I don’t know that it was like he said.”

“Why shouldn’t I believe him, Spike?” Buffy demanded. “He hasn’t given me a reason not to trust him.”

“Hasn’t he?” Spike shot back. “Was cheating on you, wasn’t he?”

Buffy’s lips tightened and she turned away, wondering if this was how it was always going to be. They didn’t seem able to speak without hurting one another, their words cutting to the quick. “The eggs were dangerous.”

“Yeah, well…” Spike sighed. “I didn’t know.”

“What if they’d hatched while we were—” Buffy broke off. “Or what if Dawn had been here, Spike?”

“Dawn hasn’t been here in weeks,” Spike reminded her. “Your orders, if I recall.”

“Dawn doesn’t always follow my orders,” Buffy said. “And that’s not the point. You can’t pull this kind of crap, Spike. A mistake like that, in this town, could get somebody killed—somebody I care about. I wouldn’t be able deal with that.”

“What do you want me to say, Slayer?” Spike asked. “What the hell do you want from me?”

Buffy swallowed. “Nothing.”

“What?”

“I can’t do this anymore, Spike,” Buffy said slowly. “This—it’s killing me. I’m using you.”

“You see me complaining?” Spike asked.

Buffy shook her head. “This isn’t right, Spike. You—if this is the kind of stuff you’re going to be doing, I can’t be with you. I was fooling myself to believe otherwise.”

Spike laughed shortly. “I’ve heard this before, luv. I think I’ve got this song memorized.”

“No, Spike.” Buffy took a deep breath. “I want you, but I can’t be with you, not right now.”

He frowned. “Not—”

“I won’t be coming back,” Buffy said quietly. “Not again.” She winced, looking around at the damage. “There isn’t much to come back to.”

Spike looked as though she’d slapped him. “Buffy—”

“If you want to see me, I need you to come by the house, Spike.” When he stared at her, uncomprehending, Buffy added, “To patrol, or to smoke on my back step, or whatever we did before we started _this_, but I think we should go back to square one.”

Before he could reply, Buffy turned and left, calling behind her, “I’m sorry, William.”

~~~~~

Spike watched her retreating figure, and then looked around at the rubble Buffy and her soldier friend had left. He felt as though the Slayer had just done something very similar to his heart, and yet—

She could have staked him for having those eggs; when the situation was stated as bluntly as Buffy had described it, Spike knew it had been stupid. If he had thought a little more, or if he had asked a few more questions, he might not have accepted the deal. Spike had talked himself out of tighter fixes in the past; he could have done the same this time around.

Buffy had been right, much as he hated to admit it. The eggs had been dangerous, and if Buffy—without the large armaments she’d sported the night before—or Dawn had been around when they’d hatched, it could have been a lot worse. Hell, if he’d been there by himself when they’d hatched, it wouldn’t have been pretty; Spike had seen no indication that they didn’t like vampire flesh.

On second thought, that might have been the wanker’s plan…

Shaking off that thought, Spike slumped against the wall, not quite knowing how to react to what Buffy had said. So they were no longer whatever they had been, but he was welcome to come around whenever she needed someone to patrol with or talk to.

As far as he could see, she was still using him; the method was just a little different.

On the other hand, maybe this was a good thing. Even his seemingly unshakeable belief that Buffy would one day wake up and realize that they belonged together was beginning to look a little too optimistic; she certainly didn’t appear to be any closer to deciding that what they had was anything more than her need to feel.

And while Spike would take her any way he could get her, that didn’t mean he didn’t want more.

This time—the way he’d handled things—had been a mistake. Spike had pushed her, but Buffy wasn’t ready to be pushed; patience, however, had never been his strong suit.

She’d said “not right now,” which seemed to indicate that there might be hope for him in the future, though. She hadn’t cut him off completely.

Spike rubbed his face tiredly. Funny how that didn’t really make him feel better.

~~~~~

Not knowing what to expect, Spike went to the back door, surprised to see her sitting on the steps as though waiting for him. It was like déjà vu, but it hurt more. Spike no longer wondered what he was missing out on; now he knew.

“Hey.”

“’lo.”

He stood there awkwardly, mostly because she’d invited him. Spike had never been invited before; he tended to just show up where he wasn’t wanted.

“Are you going to sit down?”

Sitting down next to her, Spike stared out into the darkened yard. “What are we doing, Buffy?”

“I don’t know.” He could hear her breathing next to him, the soft sounds of the night around them. This was different, reminiscent of the nights right after Buffy had returned, when they’d been able to just be silent together.

The quiet stretched on until Buffy broke it. “Can I trust you?”

Spike was quiet a long time, not knowing how to answer. “Dunno. I’m not perfect, and it’s not like I’ve got a reason to do the right thing, other than you not staking me.”

“I’m not reason enough?” Buffy asked, sounding just a touch wistful.

Spike didn’t look at her. “I don’t have you, though, do I?”

“And if you did?”

Startled, he turned his head, trying to see if she was just playing another game with him, the one where she got his hopes up only to dash them to pieces. Her expression was serious, though, focused on the slightly warped wood of the step. “Then that would be different,” he allowed.

“That’s the problem,” Buffy pointed out. “I can’t be with someone that I can’t trust, and you can’t be the person I could trust if I’m not with you.”

“What if I could be?”

“Then that would be different.”

Spike pulled out a pack of cigarettes, lighting one with practiced ease in an attempt at covering his confusion. “Then where does that leave us?”

“I guess it leaves us at square one.” Buffy turned to face him, meeting his eyes. “Please don’t make me regret this, Spike.”

Spike nodded, and they went back to sitting in companionable silence, both of them feeling as though they were finally getting somewhere—even if they’d had to go back to the beginning to get there.


End file.
